


John's Fall

by CatastrophicJue



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BBC Sherlock - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-23
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-11-16 22:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatastrophicJue/pseuds/CatastrophicJue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the fall John takes a fall of his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

John forced his way backwards out of the crowd he ducked under paramedic's elbows and through the sea of yellow stumbling into the road. He gripped his upper thigh and continued the whole world had silenced, Save for the beating of his own heart pounding in his ears.

"No No no nno" he mumbled.

He tripped on the opposite curb and went crashing to the ground. His steady hands scraped the pavement his cheek colliding with the solid ground. Foreign hands and hushed voices brought him vertical again and he forced them away. Heading towards Baker Street to home. There must be something a clue an explanation anything.

The door closed with a click there was a dull thud as his head dropped back against it. His hand reached for the stick beside the coat rack and gripped it tightly like a long lost limb. He glanced around the room moving towards the laptop, his fingers ran over the fabric of Sherlock's dressing gown lifting it against himself, he slid into the seat burying his face into the soft warm fabric.

"Where are you?" Where the only words that left his lips.

Reaching his shaking hands out he opened the laptop his blog appeared to greet him. Pulling the dressing gown around his shoulders he began searching for something anything that would lead him to why.

The longer he searched the more the anger and hurt swelled inside of him. Nothing there was nothing. His fist raised and slammed through the laptop screen he pulled it free and threw the thing into the mantel piece shards of bone, chine wear and plastic scattered. Rising to his feet he rushed to the cluttered table ripping and tearing at things launching them across the apartment and into the walls.

Slamming into the divide between the two rooms he continued on his rampage. Glasses cups plates some eye balls in a jar all scattered the ground with shards that crunched under his boots. Slipping he slammed into the fridge and slid down to the floor. Tears clouded his eyes heart raced deafening him.

"You left me! You left me with nothing!" the words tore out of him cutting their way through his throat.

His fist clenched around a large glass chunk. He gripped it and it sliced into his fingers biting back at the pain inside. Swiftly he raised his hand and slammed it down into the opposite thigh feeling the glass tear him open just as the words had. His hand was wet and the blood pooled thick and fast. His head dropped and before it faded the smell of the dressing gown filled his senses.


	2. Sherlock and poker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

John waited tapping his fingers on the arms of the chair staring at the door. He said 6:30 the man was never late. What was he doing? It was now 6:49 20 minutes thought John what could that man get up to in 20 minutes. At least 30 things that would end him in a brawl and at least 5 that would get him killed. He looked at his watch again 6:52. Standing he grabbed his coat and headed for the door as he reached the handle it turned and swung back. Sherlock wandered in pushed a paper bag at John and fell onto his settee turning tucking his legs up.

"Sherlock what happened? Your almost 20 minutes late..." He received no answer, Sherlock merely grumbled at him.   
"Gift in the bag for you."  
John waited then stood slowly returning to the bag he'd placed on the coffee table, John pushed the top open peering into it quietly, Reaching his hand in he pulled out the object within.   
"A Deck of cards.....Sherlock you promised me you. You promised we'd have dinner."  
"Sorry I didn't have time. Those stupid imbeciles in black pulled me into their frigid wagon and carted me off didn't they. Before you could even say Andersons a 3rd rate mollusc" Johns lips curled slightly at the thought of Sherlock in the back of the black car shouting about mollusc's and having no back bone and that he was a very very busy man who had no time for trivial questions.  
"There not just any playing cards.." Sherlock said after a while. "They're royal playing cards..." John glanced up.   
"You stole playing cards from the queen!"  
"Well I thought you had an ashtray what's a deck of cards. Plus they're gold plated. I thought maybe since I'm late we could maybe skip the food and go right to the end."  
John watched him, his face was sullen and he did look incredibly down beat and sorry. John leaned across the table cupping the man's soft face in his hands kissing him warmly.   
"Shush now we have plenty of other days for dinner." John soothed  
Sherlock's lips curled into a gentle smile. "I have an idea" he chimed surprisingly upbeat for the look on his face. "Strip poker"  
John grinned "RULES! I have one rule if I am to play poker with you Mr. Holmes."  
Sherlock sighed "What are they?"  
"No card counting. No deck rigging and finally...no using that fabulous brain of yours to figure out what I'm holding you play poker like regular human being and you have a deal."   
Sherlock eyed him warily "You mean no deducting at all?"  
"Not even the smallest. If I even get hankering that your deducting anything about me or my cards I'll leave you sitting here like you have me all night" John held the cards out towards the man watching him closely.  
"Okay brainless strip poker it is." Sherlock took the cards giving the man a soft smirk as he took them from the pack and shuffled.  
John had lost his jumper in the first round but he'd given Sherlock the benefit of the doubt about him cheating. 3 more rounds later he still had everything else bar his socks and Sherlock was sitting in his pants shirt and socks he'd lost his coat and trousers in a flurry of wins from John. 

Sherlock stared trying to focus on his cards trying to focus on John's his brain was trying to overpower his heart and he willed it quiet he'd promised the man no thoughts. Deciding he'd probably have a chance he laid the cards on the coffee table.   
"Flush." Sherlock frowned at his cards on the table watching John's face closely the man's tongue ever so slightly licked his lips and Sherlock let out a soft slow sigh. Damn.   
Lowering his cards John chimed back "Four of a kind." Sherlock stood slow.   
"Tell me."   
"Shirt."   
Sherlock reached to start undoing the buttons of his shirt but John's hands reached his and stopped him.   
"Wait. I want to." He took in a deep breath Sherlock heard it as it caught in his throat some escaping again slightly ragged. John slid his fingers down the thin fabric feeling the heat of Sherlock's skin beneath it he ran his fingers up the side hem and slowly over the lithe man's shoulders working a gentle knot out of them. Undoing the button with a soft tenderness and care his fingertips teasing the soft skin that was revealed with every brush he smiled his face warming in a deep red blush. He dropped the shirt to the floor and pointed back to where Sherlock had been sat cross legged on the floor.   
"Can I at least shuffle this time?" Sherlock huffed out as he sat back down on the carpet crossing over his long legs. John scanned the man with his eyes the pale skin that was so soft and that would shiver if he touched in just the right places he knew. That hair in the man's eyes framing his high cut jaw. Those deep blue eyes that seen things in himself he didn't even know existed. John passed the cards over.   
"Okay I'm trusting you." He sucked on his lip softly in thought as Sherlock leaned over the table to take the cards his muscles pulling taught and making themselves more definable under his skin. John ached to feel him. Touch him get his tongue on him. Sherlock shuffled and dealt.  
20 minutes later.   
"No no that's wrong you had a two pair you did that's wrong! You definitely had nothing higher than a two pair!" Sherlock cried in anger.   
"Sherlock that is cheating! Now loose both and I win." John retorted getting annoyed that the man had started to use his work thinking on him.   
"I Refuse." Sherlock barked back getting redder around the ears.   
"You said you wouldn't cheat and you did now loose them."  
"One more game please just one more. At least let me try to win some slight dignity back." Sherlock peered up at John through a rogue lock of hair that fell over his face. How could he resist.   
"Last one Sherlock I mean it."   
John swallowed hard as Sherlock hooked his thumbs into his boxers forcing them down over his slim hips grinning at John as they pooled around his feet. John's eyes raked the man up and down slim strong and supple muscles softly defined and twitching in his movement. John groaned out low in his throat as Sherlock bent to take off his socks, his round ass sticking higher into the air, a quiet whine escaped his throat. 

"Sherlock are you sure you want to play again?" John questioned willing his body to calm to not leap across the table and pin the man to his favourite arm chair and take him right there. Sherlock cocked his head to the side staring back John as he lifted his other leg to take of his second sock. He noticed the reddening of John's cheeks the tightness of his trousers and if he listened and strained past the sound of his own heart hammering in his ears he could hear John's racing like a greyhound.   
"Yes I am very sure wouldn't be a very good man if I didn't make up for trying to cheat would I. I did promise." Sherlock gave him a cocky little grin finger still hooked in the edge of his last sock.   
"I don't really mind that you cheated. Please can we stop now?" John rose from his chair padding around the table to the man before him not in control of his own brain anymore he wrapped his arms around him pulling his hips back against his own leaning down grazing his lips along Sherlock's lower spine teasing it with hot warm kisses and giving it a gentle suck at the very base. Sherlock gasped hard forcing his mind to stay steady and in control he raised upright leaning back against John's warm clothed body.   
"One more I promise just one more.* He reached his hand up cupping John's cheek turning and kissing him deep and slow turning in his arms pushing him back slowly towards the bedroom picking the cards up as he went. He pushed john back sliding his hand up the hem of his shirt spreading his fingers out across the broader mans stomach, feeling the muscles that had started to slowly tone due to the running around they had been doing. He unbuttoned each one and kissed down the old medics' chest grazing at small white scars and running his tongue in slow patterns over the heated skin. John groaned out loudly arching up from the bed. Pressing to Sherlock's begging cock as it throbbed against him rocking his body into the taller mans slightly desperately. Trying to make him forget about the cards still in his right hand. Sherlock rose up to his knees on the bed sliding John's shirt from him dropping it on the floor. 

"Sit John."  
"Sherlock please I don't want to play anymore. Please you can have the win on me. Please touch me." Sherlock gazed at his loyal begging soldier his hear beat pounding in his ears almost deafening.   
"One more. Then I promise if I lose I'll do whatever you ask of me.  
John sat slowly taking the cards from Sherlock's hand shuffling them he set them on the bed beside the two reaching out slow he cupped the back of Sherlock's neck kissing him forcefully their lips swelling under the pressure and intensity of it. John pulled back lips swollen and red begging to be nipped and tugged at and Sherlock panted lost for breath as he reached out for him slowly. Gripping John's tented trousers he rubbed at him slow through the fabric. John's hand trailed up the detectives' thigh teasing in slow circles driving him crazy in a way only he knew. He wrapped his fingers around his hard cock and worked it in a gentle slow rhythm teasing at Sherlock with different amounts of pressure from the palm of his hand. They both gasped hotly into the air for one another John's lips brushing Sherlock's ear slow.   
"Please can we hurry? I need you right now." He whispered.

Sherlock shifted and dealt the cards. His mind a flurry of touches and kisses barely thinking of what was in his hand he tried to force himself to work to at least figure out what he had. John glanced at his own hand watching Sherlock's face scrunch in an effort to ignore his throbbing cock. John could feel it pulsing slow with the man's heartbeat so steady and strong just like his mind. Licking his lips he laid there gazing at Sherlock fanning his hand out in his fingers he waited.  
Sherlock sat for at least another 5 minutes begging his brain to anything. It didn't obey it stared at John's chest rising and falling with his breathing, his flushed and sensitive skin, and his nipples hard and begging for Sherlock's mouth. John watched grinning bemused at the great detectives. Well lack of detection he seemed completely....brain-dead.

"Sherlock" he whispered in a low tone as he lifted his hips slowly from the covers forcing Sherlock's eyes to meet his. "Yes john he replied back staring hoarsely at the man before him trying to keep a steady composure" John lifted the cards in his hand. "Royal flush" he replied stroking the cards softly along Sherlock's jaw fingertip tracing after it. The man was perfect as if chiseled from stone.   
"Now I'm begging you lose that last sock."

Sherlock kneeled pulling the sock from his ankle throwing it over the bed. Leaning back in he took hold of John's hands pressing them back to the bed. John's eyes fluttered closed as a hot mouth enclosed his nipple forcing up against Sherlock's hot skin begging him silently for more. Grinding against the man's cock unsure of how much longer he could wait.   
"Tell me John. Tell me what you want."  
John's voice cracked the next few words escaping in a low graveled tone.   
"You Sherlock I want you to make love to me."


End file.
